What it Takes
by Mercury-Moon-7490195
Summary: Thiefshipping, AU. After Battle City, Marik's past once again comes back to haunt him in the form of a baby. But what, and who, does it take to raise the child?
1. Prologue

There was a soft knock on the door. Marik did not turn as the young woman let herself in, head bowed dutifully.

"You called for me?" she asked, perching on the bed. "Should I send Rishid away from the door?"

"He already knows what I'm about to say," Marik replied. His hands were clenched on the windowsill, his eyes staring blankly out at the city below. "We're leaving tomorrow. For the final time."

She nodded. "Where will we go?"

Marik was silent for a moment. "_I_," he said quietly. "I will be going on to face the pharaoh head on, with Rishid by my side. I don't know where you'll be going." He finally turned, meeting her eye with a strange, softer look in his own purple gaze. "Our families pushed us together, as a good match. They didn't take into account what we wanted, for that is the way the tombkeepers work…it's all for the greater good."

"What are you saying?"

Marik sat beside her, staring down at the bedspread under his hands. "I'm saying…You don't have to follow me anymore. I'll release you from any ties you have with me, and if you wish to return to your family, I will give you the means to do so." He closed his eyes. "You're free, Dalila. And I hope that you can live the rest of your life in peace, away from this curse…"

"And if I do not wish to go?" Brown eyes flickered to his face, gauging his reaction. "If I wish to stay with you?"

"That would be impossible, for the time being," Marik replied slowly. "This…my mission…it'll be dangerous…"

"I've faced danger before. I do not fear—"

Marik's lips tightened to a straight line. "Do I have to put it bluntly?" he demanded. "You are a kind, loving girl…and you're a wonderful wife…but…" He turned away. "My father decreed that you were mine. And I tried, for these five years I've tried…but I don't love you. Not as a husband should love his wife. You shouldn't have to suffer for what the pharaoh has done to this family…So I'm asking you to leave…before things get even uglier."

A faint thrill of shock spread through Dalila's chest. This wasn't anything new to her…she had just never thought she would hear him say it. She stared at him blankly, her eyes scanning his face. This, the leader of the ghouls, of the tombkeepers, of her people…her _husband. _She had seen him suffer, seen him kill, seen him wield the power of the millennium rod…but that face was still that of a very young man, barely out of childhood. A young man, four years her junior, who was trying his hardest to keep up his strength. The face and the young man she loved.

"You're very good at pretending," she murmured quietly. "Unless you've told any of them of your feelings, none of your other followers know."

"Rishid knows. No one else." Marik's eyes flitted back to the window. "Rishid keeps my secrets."

"And he does it well…" She slid off the bed, kneeling at his feet. "I only wish to serve you, my lord, as I have since we were first engaged." Pressing her lips to his hand, she continued. "If you wish me gone, then I will do as you command. Though it is against my will…I will follow yours."She pressed her lips to the back of his hand, mulling over her words carefully. "But if it pleases you…I would stay one more night…I would lay with you one last time, to carry you through the night…"

Marik stared at her for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. "I believe that would be acceptable," he murmured, pulling her up by the hand. "Just for the night." They crawled onto the bed, Marik's hands firm as he pressed his lips to hers, hands slipping under her dress. She lay back and let him touch her, smiling as she felt him growing hard against her thigh. She would get her husband back when it was all over, she vowed. One way or another.


	2. Ill News

Bakura grunted, his hands gripping Marik's shoulders. He nibbled at his lip, their mouths connected as the couch shook under their movements. Legs wrapped around Marik's waist, their hips slamming together.

"Fuck," Marik murmured, his eyes closed as he thrust faster. "I'm…oh gods, Bakura…"

The spirit pushed back against him, moaning as Marik stroked him to ecstasy. Their cries echoed off the walls, rising and falling as they spiraled out of control, then returned to earth.

"Good," Marik whispered, resting his head against Bakura's chest. "Very good." He gave his lover a tired kiss, enjoying the feel of the spirit's heart fluttering against his cheek.

"So it was," Bakura said, fingers running through Marik's hair. "Though how we managed to not fall off this couch…."

Marik smirked. "Perfect balance." he replied. "And I keep you rather stiff…in a place or two."

He laughed, pushing them off the couch and onto the dingy floor. "You want to test that theory?"

"Perhaps…" Marik pressed his lips to Bakura's and rolled off of him. "Later though." He stood, stumbling up to the bathroom to wipe himself off, splashing water on his face.

Bakura followed him, shoving him out of the way with the smack of a bony hip. Marik pushed right back, violet eyes meeting his through the mirror.

"You want to start this? Really?"

"I can take you."

"Oh I don't doubt that." Marik replied, smirking. "Doesn't mean you'll win."

"Wanna bet?"

Laughing, Marik wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning over and kissing him firmly. "Get a shower," he said, slapping him on the ass. "I'll put on some coffee."

"Black as night," Bakura replied. "Or I'll cut you in two."

"Drowning in cream it is." Marik waved him into the shower, shutting the door behind him. Bakura laughed behind the door, the shower switching on as he wandered back into the living room.

He slipped his pants back on, smiling. _Best way to start the morning, _he thought, staring out at the city below.

There was a knock on the door, jerking him out of his thoughts. He didn't move, frowning. _Who…_Bakura didn't _get _visitors, and no one but his siblings knew where he was. Yugi and friends were out of town, so who else could it be?

Another knock, louder than the first. "Marik Ishtar," A gravelly voice snapped. "I know you're in there."

Marik's eyes widened. He crept to the door, peering out of the peephole. He could just see the top of her head, black hair covered by a simple white scarf.

It wasn't Ishizu, though she certainly dressed the same from what he could see. It couldn't be someone from the tomb, could it?

"Who are you, and what do you want?"

The woman snorted from the other side of the door. "I should have expected such courtesy from you," she hissed. "Letting your own aunt stand in the hallway for this long."

Marik frowned, recognition coming back to him slowly. He had only heard that voice once or twice…With a sigh, he unlocked the door only to have it slammed open, doorknob barely missing his stomach. The woman strode in, her brow furrowed impatiently. "About time," she snapped, shutting the door behind him. "Honestly, I know your father taught you manners. Did you forget all of them since his death?"

"No, How—"

"Well nevermind, you've at least had the decency to let me in now. Aren't you going to fetch me some coffee? I've had quite the long trip, trying to track you down."

Marik's frown was quickly turning into a scowl. "I think you're forgetting who you're speaking to, Aunt…Tauret," he replied evenly, gritting his teeth. "You're the one who's barged into the home of a tombkeeper—"

A bronze hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him close. "I know your father treated you like the sun shone out your ass, boy," the woman hissed, her blue eyes ablaze, "but you won't get the same treatment from me."

Marik glared. "You have no right," he hissed, jerking out of her grasp. "Barging in here unannounced, insulting me and my father. You and I aren't not even related by blood." He took a step back, barring her way to the kitchen. "Get out of my house."

"I'm afraid that won't be happening," Tauret replied. "You and my niece have unfinished business, and I've come on her behalf."

Marik stopped, his scowl nearly knocked loose. "Dalila?" He licked suddenly dry lips, crossing his arms. "If she has something to tell me, she should talk to me herself."

For a moment, Tauret's eyes softened, saddened. "She can't," she replied coldly. "She's dead, Marik." Her gaze snapped up to meet his. "And it's all your fault."

Hissing, Marik recoiled, his heart swooping in fear. "What the hell are you talking about?" he growled. "I haven't seen her in a year, I couldn't have—"

"Oh, you didn't need to be there." Tauret interrupted. "You planted the seeds of her poison a long time ago."

Marik's fingers curled around the handle of his pocket knife. "I _didn't. KILL HER._"

"Not any better in reigning in that temper, I see." Tauret replied. "Unless she laid with another man after you abandoned her… She died giving birth, you see. To your child."

Another wave of horror rose through his chest, his back leaning against the doorway. "That can't be…"

"I assure you it can. You have a daughter, and that's why I'm here."

Marik stared at her. "It lived? How?"

Tauret crossed her arms. "Because I've been taking care of her for the last seven months. And now it's time for you to take her back."

His violet eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Tauret said. "I have nine children of my own at home. I don't have room for another, especially some brat who's not mine."

Marik's hands tugged at his hair. "I…I can't take care of a child," he muttered. "How am I supposed to take care of a baby? There must be someone else…"

"Who?" Tauret laughed. "Your former followers, the ones you abandoned? Your brother, or your sister? You'd tear them away from their lives to take care of your burden?"

Marik's teeth set. "They'd do it," he growled. "They'd do it for me."

"For Ra's sake, boy!" Tauret yelled. "Take some responsibility! It's you, or you leave her with no one, Marik! You leave her to die!"

"NO! I won't take in a child alone!"

"You won't have to." Both eyes snapped onto Bakura. Marik hadn't noticed the shower switch off. _What had he heard? _he wondered, inquiring with his eyes.

"Who is this?" Tauret drawled.

"A friend," Bakura replied just as coolly. He stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist. "And roommate."

Tauret eyed him, sneering. "I see….Marik, I thought your father beat that out of you."

The blade snapped out in Marik's hand. "What I do is my own business," he snarled. "And you've overstayed your welcome."

"Have I now?"

Bakura smirked. "You might want to do as he says. Come back later with the child, and then get back to your own brood. You'll never have to see us again."

Tauret nodded. "Very well." She met Marik's gaze. "You should thank your friend. He just saved you from revealing how cowardly you truly are."

With a scream, Marik chucked the knife, the blade lodging itself in the door as it slammed behind his aunt's retreating form.


	3. Consequences

Neither of them moved. Bakura leaned against the wall, watching Marik as he stared at the closed door, the knife handle still wavering slightly. The room was silent over the creaks and moans of the pipes.

"When were you going to tell me?" Bakura asked finally, raising an eyebrow. "Or weren't you?"

Marik didn't move. "I forgot," he said, his voice strangely quiet. "In a year…I forgot all about her." He looked up. "I didn't love her."

"But you fucked her."

"Fucking and loving isn't the same thing," Marik snapped, standing and wandering over to the balcony. "Though…sometimes it feels like it."

Bakura sniffed derisively, taking a few steps towards him. "So what are you going to do?"

Marik's hands tightened on the doorframe. "I wasn't going to do _anything _until you decided to fucking take the job!" He whirled around, grabbing Bakura and slamming him into the wall. "I don't want her, Bakura! I don't want anything to do with that life!"

"Well you're shit out of luck then, aren't you?" Bakura replied coolly, gaze burning into Marik's. "You did this, you're going to find a way to deal with it."

A vein pulsed against the bronze skin of his throat, quickening as his fingers dug into Bakura's shoulders. "Why couldn't you leave it alone? I could have dealt with it if you hadn't waltzed in and started fucking things up!"

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "How? You were going to let your aunt leave her out in the desert somewhere? You'd kill a child?"

"It'd be better for her than living with me," Marik replied.

"Oh really? You remember Egypt, don't you? The sand? The heat? Supposing she doesn't die of exposure, she'll die of dehydration. She'll be screaming, begging for a drink and _no one _will hear her, Marik. _No one _will help her! And the only thing she'll know in this world is that everyone who brought her into it left her there, everyone abandoned her. She'll die frightened and alone, now tell me, is that something you really want on your conscience?"

_Crack!_

Bakura's head slammed into the wall, mind spinning from Marik's blow. Marik wheeled away, his hands tearing at his hair.

"You don't get it, do you?" He shrieked. "That child was cursed from the day she was born! I promised myself—I didn't want anyone else to suffer my fate."

"No one else will suffer 'your fate', Marik," Bakura retorted painfully, wiping his bloodied nose on the back of his hand. "In case you've forgotten, you gave the pharaoh all the information he needs. The role of the tombkeepers is finished."

"Then the gods will curse her with some new burden. With the madness of my father and his father before him…of all her forefathers, not to mention mine…" He grit his teeth, sinking back down on the couch. "My father suffered. He took it all out on me and Rishid and Ishizu…He could go from praising me one minute to beating me over a single wrong word. I saw his torment and his demons and I swore that I wouldn't subject another child to that. That I wouldn't have an heir, and I'd spite him because that was all he wanted from me in the end." He frowned down at the carpet. "That's why he had me married as soon as the scars had healed just enough so they wouldn't split back open again. From the second we were wed, producing an heir was the only thing he talked about….So the cycle of madness could continue…."

Marik buried his head in his hands, nails digging into his temples. "I _can't_ be a father to this child, Bakura. I'll…I'll only hurt her…in the end…"

Bakura frowned. "You'll only hurt her for sure if you leave her there in the desert," he replied quietly. "Because it does hurt. The feeling of choking on all that sand, the sun peeling away every layer of skin. The feeling of needing water so intense that you'd do anything to make it go away. You'd kill anyone, fuck anyone, you'd be anyone's slave just for a drop…you'd sell your soul to make it end…"

Marik looked up to see Bakura's gaze no longer focused on him, instead staring intently at the smear of blood on his hand.

"Bakura—"

His eyes snapped back up again. "I can't let you do that, to anyone. Especially not someone who can't even defend themselves out there." He crossed to the couch, sitting down beside him. "If you let her live, you give her chance to prove you wrong."

"But how am I supposed to take care of her?" Marik asked. "The fuck do I know about raising a child? All I have to go off of is how _I _grew up…" Anger flared in his eyes again, along with a strange determination. "She won't be living like that…that I can guarantee."

Bakura nodded, smiling a little. "That's the spirit." He patted his knee. "We can do this." He stood, finally reaching for his pants.

"We?" Marik's voice shook a little. "Why would you want to help?"

Bakura said nothing, his eyes drifting off into his memories again. With a shrug, he turned back down the hall. "You might want to get ready to work." he said. "Unless you want your baby crawling around on cum-stained carpet." He retreated to the bedroom, leaving Marik far from entirely reassured.


	4. Desperation

"Sister, be reasonable," Marik hissed into the phone. "Please, consider it."

He heard Ishizu sigh over crackling of the speaker. "Marik, I _am _being reasonable. What am I supposed to do with a child?"

"I don't know? Raise it? Nurture it? Sell it to a circus? I don't care, please, you have to help me!"

"It's your child," Ishizu replied, a slight note of disapproval in her voice. "You're all she has in the world, now."

"Why does everyone keep saying things like that?" Marik demanded. "I didn't want her to be born."

Another sigh. "It's not…it's not how anyone wanted, brother. I wish it hadn't worked out like this, really, I do…" She paused, mulling over her words. "But that's how it is."

Marik scoffed. "I should have expected this from you, sister," he said, resting his chin in his hands. "Giving me your usual bullshit, instead of actually trying to find some helpful advice—"

"Don't give me that, Marik!" Ishizu snapped. "What am I supposed to do, drop my job, leave my life to raise your child?"

"I'll give you the money—"

"It's not about money!" Marik balked. Ishizu never got this angry, not that he could remember. "I like my job, and I'm not about to leave it so you can skirt your responsibilities and drop them all on me." She heaved another sigh. "I'm sorry, Marik, but that's my final answer. Now, if you were to move back home, then Rishid and I could help you—"

Marik shivered. "I'd rather eat live cobras," he retorted. "Goodbye, sister."

He slammed the phone back on the receiver, falling back on the bed.

"That sounded like it went well," a sly voice said from the hall.

Marik groaned. "Why the _fuck _do you feel it necessary to eavesdrop on my private conversations?" he snapped wanly, glaring at his partner. "I'm not having these for your entertainment."

"On the contrary," Bakura replied, slinking around the corner. "I'm not getting any enjoyment out of seeing you suffer." He sat down, pressing his lips to Marik's cheek. "Where's the old Ishtar charm?"

"About to strangle you," Marik replied, giving him a half-hearted glare. "You _would _get off on this."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Come here then," he groaned, his fingers fiddling with Marik's buttons. "You need to relax…I can help with that, you know."

Marik moaned as Bakura wrapped his lips around his cock, hands tangling in mess of white hair. "Like you can help me," he grunted, leaning back on his elbows and pushing Bakura farther onto him. "This isn't, mmf, fixing the… problem."

Bakura only bobbed his head, arching an eyebrow and sucking harder. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sounds of Marik's gasps and mewls. It wasn't long before he came, thrusting roughly into his mouth.

"Fmbmm?"

"Wha?" Marik asked, sitting halfway up.

He swallowed. "Feel better?" he asked, wiping a hand across his mouth.

The blond shrugged, flopping back on the bed. "I still have a kid, don't I," he muttered, glancing at Bakura. "Even your admittedly impressive cocksucking skills cannot erase that."

The white haired man crawled up on the blankets beside him. His hand curled around Marik's, his forehead resting against the tan skin. Marik flashed him a tired smile, scooting up against him.

The doorbell rang. "Say goodbye to moments like these," Marik said sadly, pressing his lips to the pale hand.

"You'll see them again," Bakura replied, zipping Marik's pants and pulling him to his feet. "Your aunt's not going to wait for you to get me off, is she?"

The doorbell rang again. "No." Marik replied with a sigh. He walked slowly to the door, a frown on his face like he was about to be sick. Bakura grasped his hand tightly, and together they walked to the door.

"Do you have some aversion to a swift response when someone's at the door?" Tauret asked irritably, pushing her way into the room. There was a bundle in her hands.

"Is that…"

"Here's her bag," Tauret said, ignoring him. "Her bottle, formula, clothes, diapers and other such things…"

Marik threw it back on the couch without hesitating. "Let me see her," he demanded.

Tauret smirked, but said nothing. She pushed aside the linen and revealed the tiny, sleeping face. "I just got her to sleep, for your sake I hope it stays that way." she said. Gently, she placed the bundle in his arms. "Kesi is your burden now."

"Kesi?" Marik stared down at her with pursed lips. She was heavy, and she stirred restlessly in his arms. He froze, but she slept on. "Who named her?"

"Her mother." Tauret answered shortly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch."

There was another knock on the door, as a little girl peered nervously into the room. "M-mother," she stammered nervously, eyes darting between Tauret and the two men "She forgot her doll on the seat…"

Tauret grit her teeth. "I told you to wait in the car," she said, reaching for the doll.

Bakura intercepted her, snatching the toy out of the girl's hands. "We'll take it from here," he drawled, staring Tauret down. "And with your business done, I'm afraid there's no reason for you to stay any longer in my home."

"Mother, Manu was crying when I left…"

Tauret lunged, grabbing her daughter by the arm. "Goodbye, Marik," she growled. "And good riddance."

She slammed the door, storming down the hall.

"She's so pleasant," Bakura replied sarcastically. "Can we have her back for tea some time?"

"We have bigger problems." Marik replied, frowning at the bundle. Kesi's eyes had opened, bluish-purple and gazing blurrily up at him. He bit his lip.

"Hi there, er…oh no."

Kesi's eyes screwed shut again, and she began to wail.


	5. A Promise

Marik cringed, holding the bundle away from him. "Oh _fuck,_" he hissed, glancing up to Bakura's strangely calm face. "Well don't just stand there," he demanded, "Help me!"

"It's a kid," Bakura replied coolly, smirking. "What else did you expect?"

Marik scowled. "If you're not going to get her to stop, then fuck off!"

"Fine," Bakura replied. He tossed the doll to Marik, which hit him squarely in the face and flopped to the ground.

"Not helping!" Marik snapped, struggling to hold on to the squirming baby. "Shh, Kesi, it's okay…"

Kesi only wailed louder, kicking Marik's side with her tiny feet. Marik looked desperately from her to Bakura. He could feel her slipping out of his hands. "Dammit, help me!"

The pale man heaved a heavy sigh and darted forward, snatching the baby out of his hands. "You have to support her head," he said, cradling her against his shoulder. "They can't hold it up themselves for awhile, you know. Her cries lessened, even as she continued squirming. "She's strong."

"Makes sense," Marik replied slowly, leaning down to pick up the doll. He stayed a few feet away, warily gazing at the tiny bundle in Bakura's arms. "You got her?"

Bakura nodded, a hand firmly on her back. Kesi sniffled against his shirt. Earning a disgusted grimace. "At least she's stopped crying," he said, bouncing her gently as his eye fell back on Marik ."And here, she can snot on your shirt for awhile."

Marik frowned. "But how did you get her to—"

"I don't know," Bakura interrupted hastily. "I must have heard it somewhere or something, now here, hold out your arms."

"But what if she starts screaming again?"

"That's going to happen a lot, she's a baby. You'll just have to get used to it." He set her in Marik's arms, his own curving under for support. "There she is," Bakura said, a strange softness to his voice. Your daughter, Marik.."

Marik nodded, but said nothing. He only stared down at her, their purple eyes locked on each other. Bakura pulled him close for a minute, pressing his lips to his neck before finally pulling away, backing towards the couch. "It's getting close to dinner time," I'll see if your aunt was generous enough to leave her a bottle."

"Hm?" Marik asked, looking up dazedly.

"Well, unless you want to try to nurse her," Bakura drawled, smirking. He slipped into the kitchen with her bag, leaving the two Ishtars alone.

Marik sank down on the couch, resting her gently on his knee as he gazed at her tiny face. "You're beautiful, aren't you?" He murmured to her quietly. "Well, considering who your parents were—are…well, me, obviously…and your mother was, well, not bad looking, was she? A lot of people thought her to be very beautiful…just like you'll be…I bet you'll have to beat the boys off with a stick, when you get older."

Kesi smiled up at him, gurgling happily. Her father returned the grin, feeling something shift in his chest as he stared down at her. "This isn't going to be easy," he said quietly. "I wish you'd stay like this, smiling and giggling..but not every day is going to be like that. A lot of days—most of them, won't be, and I'm sorry…I'm sorry you were born into this family, that the gods cursed you to be mine…" He brushed the few sparse patches of dark hair with a gentle hand. "I don't know how to do any of this, but I guess I'll have to try, won't I? I'll have to try not to make your life as miserable as mine…I'll make it so you'll be okay."

She waved an arm, her hand catching Marik's finger and holding it tightly. Marik laughed softly. "It's a promise, then." He tucked the doll in beside her, beaming wider as she let out a tiny, happy laugh. "C'mon," he murmured, rising slowly to his feet. "Let's go see what your other daddy's up to, shall we?"


	6. While She Sleeps

"Is she asleep yet?" Marik whispered, rocking her gently in his arms. He didn't dare to move his head to turn and look.

"Almost. You can probably set her down now." Bakura regarded their disheveled bed and frowned, tucking one more blanket into a makeshift nest.

Marik raised an eyebrow. "You can't give her all of the pillows, you know. How are we supposed to sleep on an empty bed?"

"We'll figure something out." Marik set her down cautiously, hesitating as she stirred. But her eyes stayed closed, and she nestled into her makeshift bed. Her fingers clutched the doll's hand as Marik set it down beside her, inching slowly off the bed. Bakura pulled him out to the living room, closing the door behind him.

"But what if she wakes up?" Marik hissed. "What if we don't hear her."

"She's yours, isn't she? We already know she has your talent for screaming."

"Fuck you," Marik snapped distractedly, running a hair through his already messy hair. "What do you know?"

A hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him into Bakura's grasp. "You need to relax…" Bakura's voice had slipped into a lower, seductive range as he looped his arms around Marik's waist, his lips poised at his ear.

"You're not helping," Marik replied, pulling away. "What exactly do you think is going on here? You think this is a game?"

Bakura sniffed. "Everything's a game," he said. "It's the reason we're here."

"Speak for yourself," Marik sank onto the couch, glaring up at him. "It's the only reason you're _still _here, isn't it?"

His face remained expressionless. "It started that way," he said quietly.

"And has it changed?"

Bakura sighed. "We'll talk about this later, Marik."

Marik snarled, grabbing him by the throat. "No, now. First you volunteer me for something I don't want, then you don't bother to explain how you know all these things about kids, now this? Explain _something,_ dammit."

Bakura grabbed his hair, jerking him back at arms length. "Not until you get ahold of yourself," he growled. Their eyes bore into each other, neither blinking or letting go for several long seconds. Finally Marik sighed, his hand brushing Bakura's chest as it fell from his neck into his lap.

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" he asked quietly, folding himself up against the corner of the couch. "When the pharaoh returns to Egypt, you'll have to follow him."

Bakura's eyes remained flat, distant. "You knew that," he said quietly. "You knew that was the way it had to be."

"And if you don't come back?" Marik met his eye, an almost beseeching gleam on his face. "You said I wouldn't have to raise her on my own."

"You won't. You'll have your brother and sister waiting for you, if not me." Bakura folded his arms. "And if I don't…I'll make sure things are easier for her, and you."

Marik bit his lip. "Why? Why would you talk like that…or do that for her, for that matter?"

"It's none of your business, is it?" Bakura scoffed. "You should be glad I'm even considering it. I could just leave you with nothing."

"But you're not. You're not rich, Bakura, and you have no obligation—"

"—Drop it—"

"She's not even your child, is she—"

"I said, _drop it, _Marik."

"You have no real responsibility for her, do you?"

Bakura grabbed him again, hoisting him closer by the front of his shirt. "No," he growled, staring Marik down. "But you do. And do you know what it's like to be responsible for someone weaker than you? Someone who depends completely on you to live? How do you think it feels if that person dies, all because you couldn't take care of them?"

Marik's eyes danced across his face, understanding slowly creeping into his gaze. "I…I don't know…"

"No one should have to go through that. So I'll do what I can." Their hands found each other, clasping together tightly as Marik pulled him close.

He pressed his lips to Bakura's, closing his eyes. "I guess that'll work," he murmured. "But I'd rather you come back."

Bakura nodded, but said nothing, merely clutching Marik tightly in his arms.

It felt like hours before they pulled away, a bleary purple eye gazing up from Bakura's chest. "Maybe we should just sleep out here," he mused, toying with a silver strand of hair.

"She'll wake up and start screaming if someone isn't in there."

"She'll wake up and start screaming either way." Marik argued.

Bakura still sat up, pushing Marik out of his lap. "We might as well try."

Marik groaned, pushing himself up onto his feet. They crept into the bedroom, where Kesi was still thankfully sleeping. Sitting down as gently as possible, the blond paused in fear as Kesi twitched, waving an arm vaguely in Marik's direction. She stayed asleep, however, even as they both crawled into bed.

"She is a rather cute baby," Bakura whispered, giving Marik one last kiss before awkwardly settling down on the pillows and closing his eyes. "You should be proud."

Marik said nothing, but his fingers slipped into Bakura's outstretched hand. He closed his eyes, and willed sleep to come.


	7. A Memory, A Nightmare, A Vow

_The air was still and the moon was low, just peaking over the dunes. She looked up at him, fear quivering in her brown eyes. "Brother," she whimpered, clinging to his tunic with shaking hands. "Something is wrong…" _

_He said nothing, staring out the window of their tiny house. It lay up against the cliffs, nestled under an overhang in the farthest corners of Kul Elna. A protected spot…their father had fought every man in the village for it. But now, with Father gone, it fell to the oldest son to protect it. He rested a hand on his sister's dark hair, frowning out at the horizon. _

_"We'll be safe here, whatever it is," he said quietly. "Maybe it's just a lion." _

_His sister shrugged, standing on tiptoe to see out of the rough hole in the wall. "It doesn't feel like a lion," she murmured. "The birds wouldn't have gone this quiet…"_

_He had to admit she was right. It was too quiet, too still, as if the entire village were holding its breath, waiting. He clutched his staff a little tighter. _

_His mother appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide and uncertain. Salihah ran to her, jumping into her arms. His mother held her close for a moment before turning to him, motioning him over. _

_"The pharaoh's soldiers are coming," She whispered in his ear. "You must take your sister and run." _

_He pulled away, determined to hide the fear that had lept into his heart. "I can fight," he said, licking dry lips. "Father taught me—" _

_"Another day, my son," She took his staff and set Salihah down, hurriedly emptying the small box in the corner onto the tattered blanket of his bed. Handing the tiny dagger to him, she tied the rest to the end, glancing out at the horizon. They could hear the thundering of hundreds of footfalls now, growing closer. She pressed it into his hand, her own fingers trembling as she did so."You run towards where the sun rises…you'll make it to the city if you just keep going."  
_

_ "Mama—" Saliah whimpered._

"_Remember what we taught you about finding water? And food?" _

_He nodded. "I do, but—"  
"Mama!" Salihah repeated, tears welling up in her eyes The footsteps were nearing the cliffs. He could hear chanting cutting through the air, ominous voices that made his skin crawl. _

_"Bakura, listen to me!" His mother barked, drawing his eyes back to her. "You must keep out of the soldiers' way. Keep running, and don't let them see you. If they do…" She bit her lip, throwing her arms around him. "Protect yourself, and your sister, no matter what.'  
_

_ He felt a strange lump growing in his chest. "I…I will."  
_

_ She went over and hugged picked up her daughter, holding her tightly to her chest for one last moment. "Everything will be okay," she murmured, wiping her face with the corner of her well-worn dress. "Just be safe, and stay with your brother. Listen to him. Promise me." _

_"I p-promise," Salihah sobbed. "But aren't you coming?" _

_His mother shook her head. "Not yet…But we'll see each other again someday." She kissed her forehead. "Now go with your brother. It'll be okay—"_

_There were screams from the far end of town. She kissed them both once more and pushed them out the door. "Run, now, and don't stop until you're safe." _

_He nodded, grabbing his sisters hand and pulling her away. His mother watched them go, and as he glanced back a tear rolled down her cheek, her hand tightening on the knife tied to her belt as she watched them disappear. _

_The soldiers were pouring in now, their spears visible among the houses. People were running, streaming out into the streets. The confused and defiant shouting quickly turned to screams, chaos descending onto the village. Salihah ran as fast as she could, tears falling behind her. _

_"Come on!" He glanced back and saw a soldier meet his gaze. The stare he returned was dull and confused, but the smile on the soldier's face was cruel. He raised his spear. _

_"RUN," He pushed Salihah in front of him, diving onto a side street. They hurtled ahead, running through the smoke as the village began to burn. He glanced back to see the soldier trailing behind, his spear still raised. But they were getting farther behind, and there was still a chance…_

_"The cliffs!" He yelled to his sister. "We can climb and get away!" _

_Salihah gaped at him. "But mother said never to play over there," she said. "We'll get in trouble—" _

_"We'll be in trouble if we don't," He retorted. They reached the cliffs and he picked her up, giving her a boost to the first ledge. "Climb, Salihah! You can do it!" He tossed his staff onto a high ledge, __grabbing the familiar handholds. His sister's progress was slower, her tiny arms straining to pull herself up. He glanced between her and the soldier, who was fast approaching._

_"Hurry!" He scurried upwards to a wider cliff, reaching as far as he could. "Give me your hand!" _

_Salihah climbed up onto a tiny overhang, stretching her hand out as far as she could reach. "Get closer!" she cried, glancing back. "'Kura, they're coming!" _

_He swore, glancing down at the soldier. The man ran to the cliffs, swiping at their heels with his spear. Salihah screamed, her eyes wide as the moon as she stared up at him. He could see it in her face, the instincts kicking in. She took the few steps back that she could and he nodded, stretching his hand out to catch her. _

_She jumped. Arms flailing, trying to propel her forwards as she flew through the air. She just barely caught his hand, feet scrambling to reach the cliff. She smiled at him. He smiled back, just as he started to pull her up. _

_He barely saw the spear until it appeared in the corner of his eye. _

_"SALIHAH—!" _

_Her whole body shuddered, her smile faltering as her eyes slipped down at the spear protruding out of her chest. _

_"Kura—I—" Her eyes were fading, gazing far over his head. "Go—" Her hand slipped from his, and she tumbled to the ground. His heart fell with her, a scream caught in his throat—_

Bakura snapped awake, a cold sweat running down the back of his neck. He swore under his breath, massaging his eyes with the heels of his hands. It had been a long time since those memories had been so clear, since the pain had been so vivid. His heart, or at least the one he borrowed, hammered away in fright and adrenaline and he _hated _that feeling. He lay back on the pillows, closing his eyes and focusing on the breath moving swiftly through his lungs. Fear had stopped him then, he wasn't about to let it control him now. It was nothing but a memory, something that had died long ago.

_Some_one _who had died long ago….because of you…._

He snarled and rolled out of bed. Perhaps a walk would calm him down…

There was a tug on his hair, and a quiet giggle that made him turn around. Kesi stared up at him with a tiny smile, arms reaching up to him.

"So you're awake, huh," Bakura murmured, picking her up. She fussed, and immediately, Bakura could smell why. He wrinkled his nose, turning to Marik.

"Your daughter—" He sighed to see his partner sleeping soundly. He eased off the bed, quietly rifling through Kesi's duffel back for the half-empty pack of diapers.

"We'll have to send your daddy to the store tomorrow," he muttered to her as they headed towards the bathroom. "Last thing we need is for you to run out of diapers…this apartment's shitty enough as it is."

He changed her brusquely, following the directions on the side of the package. Kesi's eyes, he soon realized, were quite unnerving if they stared at you for too long.

"What are you looking at, hm?" he asked quietly, picking her back up. "You've got a new diaper, you should just go back to sleep. I'm not going to be getting up with you every night, so you better get used to sleeping all the way through til morning, got it?"

"Uh-buh-buh!" She reached up and grabbed his nose, giggling.

Bakura smirked. "I'm taking that as a yes." He wandered out to the living room, sinking onto the couch. "Let's let your daddy sleep a little longer, keep you out here…" She perched on his lap, held up only a little by Bakura's hand. "I bet you'll be walking soon, running daddy ragged. Just leave him a little energy for me, alright?"

"Mm." She leaned over, crawling onto the leather couch. Bakura watched her carefully, resting his chin in his hands. She was already fast, reaching the end of the couch and plopping down with a glance at Bakura. He could already see traces of Marik's own smirk in the corners of her mouth, and realized that he was smiling as well.

"You know, I think you'll be okay," he mused aloud as she crawled back towards him. "You'll adapt, until you can't even remember life back with that aunt of yours. Your daddy will take care of you, and once he gets used to having you around, I'm sure he'll spoil you rotten…give you a proper childhood…"

"Ah-bu!" she babbled, her tiny hands clutching at the fabric of his sleep pants.

He smiled sadly down at her. "I'll try to be there too….for as long as I can. I don't know when it'll be happening, but someday, I'll have to go away for awhile, to fight…and if I win, I'll come back for you and Daddy…and we will all live like gods." The smile was fading from his lips. "I think you and Salihah will get along, there won't be too much of an age difference. And she can watch you sometimes, so your daddy and I can have some time to ourselves…"

Lost in reverie, he missed the sounds of Marik stirring restlessly from the bedroom.

"We'll finally be happy then," he murmured. "In our new world…and I'll have time to teach you two how to climb—"

"NO!" Marik's scream tore through the apartment, making Kesi jump. "Bakura?! BAKURA?!"

He swore, rushing back to the bedroom. "I'm here," He had barely enough time to set

Kesi down before Marik flung his arms around him, burying his face in his shoulder.

"You're okay—"

"I couldn't stop…had to….they made me…" He choked on a sob, his hands shaking against Bakura's skin. "Oh god…."

"It was just a nightmare…"

"I—-I hurt her…"

Bakura shook his head. "She's fine," He pulled away and handed her over.

Marik took her in trembling arms, holding her close to his chest. "Shh," he murmured as she fussed, rubbing her back tenderly. "You're okay…we're all okay…"

Tears dripped down into her hair as Bakura turned away, his face pensive at Marik's outburst. He pulled the blanket from the bed, wrapping it gently around Marik's shoulders. As he backed away, Marik caught his hand, glancing up. "Stay."

There was still the prickle of the usual authority to his voice; it was still an order, however quiet. Bakura returned to his side, his hands slipping protectively around Marik's waist. He rested his forehead on his shoulder and closed his eyes, holding him until the shaking stopped. _I'll win this __shadow game, _he vowed silently. _For all of us. _


	8. All in a Day's Work

Marik awoke with Kesi in his arms and Bakura nowhere to be found. The sun shone brightly through the curtains lighting up her sleeping face.

He lay motionlessly, the slightest smile on his face as she nestled closer to him. _You're going to have a big today, aren't you? _he thought. _First full day here..."_ He pulled her a little closer and shut his eyes again. Maybe she'd let him sleep just a little bit longer...

Bakura's soft footsteps announced his return. He sat down on the edge of the bed, setting a cup of coffee on the nightstand by Marik's head.

He opened an eye. "Been up long?" Marik asked quietly, reaching over for the mug.

"Couldn't get back to sleep," Bakura replied. "Went out shopping."

Marik raised an eyebrow over his mug. "Shopping or _shopping_?"

Bakura chuckled softly. "I can't let myself get rusty, can I?" He stood back up. "I got a few things for her. And you. And breakfast."

"Aren't you busy?" Marik said. He gently eased Kesi off of the bed, carrying her out to the living room. He tried not to show his surprise.

"You couldn't have pulled all of this off," he said, staring at the boxes dumped across the floor. "Did you steal a car too?"

"_Borrowed _is the word you're looking for." Bakura replied. "And you're fucking welcome."

Marik glanced over at him. "You didn't need to do any of this," he said. "Bakura-"

"You really want her sleeping with us until she's five?" Bakura interrupted?" "I want my bed back, thanks." He wrapped an arm around his waist, kissing him firmly. "But you're putting the damn thing together."

"Yeah fucking right," Marik retorted. "You got it, _you _put it together."

Bakura smirked, pulling away. "Too busy," he said, sitting back down on the couch and reaching for his coffee. "You see, I got some books as well, which you'll also probably need to catch up on."

"What do you-" He followed Bakura's gaze around the box and blinked. "Really?" He kicked over the pile of baby-care books. "Really?!"

"Were you really planning on just bullshitting this forever?"

Marik rolled his eyes. "I hate you sometimes," he muttered, sitting down next to him. "What'd you get for breakfast?"

"It's in the kitchen, go get it and find out."

Marik handed Kesi to him, stepping over the boxes and heading out to the kitchen. "The fuck is this shit?"

"Baby food." Bakura replied. "She's gotta start working towards normal food sometime right?"

"How do you know all this?" Marik asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Bakura shrugged. "Since I picked up a copy of _The Baby Owner's Operating Manual, _or whatever this was." He chucked the book at Marik's head, smirking as he caught it.

Kesi whimpered, stuggling against Bakura's hands as she awoke. He looked down and smiled. "Morning kid," he murmured. "Are you ready for a day of watching daddy put your new bed together?"

"Ha ha," Marik swooped back, coffee and book in hand. "Your papa's so silly, isn't he Kesi?" he said, peering down at her.

Bakura stared at him blankly . "Papa?"

Marik shrugged. "You might as well be...you really want her to grow up calling you Bakura?"

"I-"

"-Kuku!" Kesi said suddenly, giggling as both men looked down at her in surprise. "Kukukuku!"

Marik burst out laughing as Bakura's ears reddened. He pushed her into Marik's hands. "Go feed your damn daughter while I start unpacking this. But you're putting it together."

He took her, still laughing, into the kitchen. "Whatever you say," he said. "...Kuku..."

Bakura rolled his eyes. Marik chuckled to himself as he set her down on the kitchen table, staring at the jumble of baby food jars on the counter. "Well, what do you want, hm? Strained spinach and potatos...pureed green beans and rice...pureed spaghetti and cheese, pureed apple, turkey and cranberry, pureed beef and gravy...Bakura, these look disgusting!"

"I dunno, I didn't exactly have time to be picky." Bakura retorted. "Just give her one, you think she really cares?"

"I'm pretty sure she still has taste buds." Marik unscrewed a jar, giving it a hesitant sniff. "How much should I give her, anyways?"

Bakura shrugged. "Probably not a lot. Ease her into eating normal foods."

"If you can call this normal," he scoffed. He dipped a finger into the jar and tasted it, wrinkling his nose. "Ugh. Are you sure she-"

"Just feed her, Marik." Bakura rolled his eyes. "You don't have to eat it."

Marik grumbled, grabbing a small spoon and trying to juggle the food and Kesi. "You can blame him if it tastes bad," he said quietly to her, perching her on a knee as he sat down. "Just pretend it's chocolate and gulp it all down."

There was a clatter of metal parts hitting the carpet. Marik peered around the corner, smirk firmly in place. "How's it going, handyman?"

"I'm going to stab you with this pole," Bakura growled, glancing up. "Pay attention to what you're doing."

Marik looked to see the spoon hovering high over Kesi's head, the green goop hanging dangerously close to the edge. She was watching it closely, eyes wide as her head swayed slightly in time with Marik's hand.

He smiled. "Here you go, just open wide-" She reached out, her tiny hands wrapping around the spoon. "You want to feed yourself? You're not-"

Kesi let go, the spoon falling to the floor with a clatter. With a giggle she stared up at Marik, who scowled back.

"Well now what?" Marik asked her, setting the jar down. "How do you expect to eat it now?"

"Buhbuh."

He shook his head, carrying her under an arm as he crossed the room for another spoon. "You know that's not going to fly, missy. You're going to have to eat it sooner or later. "

"Nuhuh."

Bakura listened in with a certain amount of smug satisfaction as Marik's cajoling grew increasingly more desperate.

"Please, Kes, just eat the damn pears."

Kesi only hummed infuriatingly, her mouth decidedly closed.

"After this, we can do something really fun! But you have to eat first-"

"For the love of Isis, just eat it!"

"Come on, please?"

Marik sighed, setting her back down on the table. "Fine. Just stay there, we'll try a different one." As he walked away, two things almost simultaneously hit the floor. One was the third spoon of the morning. The other was the unmistakable crash of the glass baby food jar.

"KESI! GODDAMMIT!"

She only giggled as Bakura raced into the kitchen, barely avoiding the mess of glass and green goop.

"What did you expect to happen if you left her alone?" He demanded, picking her up.

Marik glowered. "Just get her out of here while I clean this up. Give her a bath, play with her, sit her down in front of the TV, I don't care. Just take her, _please." _

Bakura did so, wiping off the missed attempts to get the pears into her mouth with a napkin. "Come on, kid, I've got something to show you. It's a strange contraption called a playpen."

He left the room and came back a few minutes later, kneeling down and scooping the glass up into his hand. "Why do I get the feeling she's going to be spending a lot of time in that thing?" He said. "We still have a little formula for her, right?"

"I think so," Marik sighed. "We'll just have to try again later."

"Mhm." Bakura waved him away. "Go on, I can finish up here."

Marik shook his head, scrubbing the floor harder. "I just need a minute," he mumbled. "Need my coffee before I try to deal with her again."

"Makes sense." He threw the glass away and rinsed the pear off his hands. "I got you a bagel, you better not waste it."

Marik nodded. From the living room, Kesi whined unhappily, squirming around in the tiny pop-up pen.  
Bakura returned, leaning over her. "Do you want something to play with, is that it?" He pulled a bag from his mountain of goods, pulling out several stuffed animals and dolls. "There you go," he said, watching as she crawled towards one of the bears. "The woman who sold me that told me that this bear has sold out four times in the past month, it's very popular, apparently." He smiled slightly. "Well she told someone else who was buying one that...I just happened to overhear. And guessed you'd want one. At the very least, you'll be able to sell it someday for lots of money, if you don't want it anymore."

He glanced down to see Kesi sucking on the bear's ear, looking quite pleased with herself. "Or, you know, not. Up to you." He took his seat on the couch, returning to the high chair he had been trying to assemble. He frowned at the pieces, fiddling with the bolts as Marik swept into the room, coffee, bottle and bagel in hand.  
"Mm," He nodded towards the high chair box, inspecting the picture on the side. "That might help a little, later ."

"That's what I figured," Bakura said. "There's also a crib at the bottom there." He pointed with his foot. "So she'll have her own bed...We can put it in the spare room, so we might get some sleep tonight."

Marik smirked wryly. "I doubt it," he said, kneeling down beside the play pen and handing Kesi her bottle. She latched on immediately, trying to push Marik's hand away. "You really think I'm going to let you hold it yourself, after the whole spoon fiasco?" He asked, picking her up and heading over to the couch. "Fat chance,"

"She gets it from you, I'm sure," Bakura muttered. "Unless you're going to tell me you didn't throw things around the tomb when you were little."

"Of course not. I was a perfect angel." He said with a straight face. "I certainly wasn't the one who broke three pieces of 19th dynasty pottery when the cook wouldn't let me have early dessert on feast day when I was five...of course not."

Bakura snorted. "You were such a brat," he said, not taking his eyes off his work. "Unsurprising, as you still are."

Marik kicked his shin, smirking. "You just wait until later," he hissed, taking a sip of his coffee. "You're going to get it."

"Right..." Bakura sat back, admiring his handiwork for a moment before pushing it to the side. "We'll see about that." He sat back, turning to one of the baby guides. "After all, you'll be the one getting up with her tonight, not me. You might not even have time to do whatever it is you're thinking of." He glanced over, meeting Marik's eye. "You'll be too busy changing diapers."

"Then you'll just have to go fuck yourself," Marik replied. "See how a nice case of blue ball treats you, bastard."

"Asshole."

"Shitface."

"Cunt."

Kesi let go of her bottle. "'Unt!" she said.

Marik stared at her in alarm. "We'll have to continue this later, I think," he said, patting her back gently. She let out a tiny burp, smiling contentedly as she slid off Marik's lap, crawling into the space between the two men.

"Turn on the tv," Bakura said without looking up from his book. "Might keep her busy for a little while, at least."

Marik frowned. "I'm not putting on that shit they usually show for kids," he muttered. "None of this 'I love you, you love me' crap."

"I don't care what you put on, put it on a music channel if you want. Just pick _something." _

As he flicked on the television, Kesi snapped to attention, her eyes going wide. She leaned over, trying to crawl closer to the screen. Bakura let her down, waiting until she plopped herself down, mesmerized, in front of the tv before turning his attention to the crib.

"Alright, I guess we'll set it up in the middle of the room and then move it back, the frame alone shouldn't be that heavy."

"Sure," Marik said, wolfing down the rest of his bagel. "Just let me finish my coffee."

Bakura shook out the instructions, taking a brief glance over them. "Doesn't look too hard," he muttered to himself.

Marik scoffed. "Directions. It's a box with bars, how hard could it be?"

Bakura raised an eyebrow, dumping the contents of the box out onto the floor and laughing as Marik's face slid into dismay.

An hour and a half later, Marik was mentally kicking himself, throwing the dowel rods to the floor. "The fuck is this supposed to be simple?!" He grabbed the directions out of Bakura's hands. "Look, it says four simple steps. Bullshit!"

Bakura said nothing, only smiling as he screwed the legs to the base. Marik frowned at one of the slotted sides he was working on. He felt a strange prickle of uneasiness, like something was missing.

He whipped around, staring at the empty space in front of the TV, jumping to his feet. "Shit, Bakura, I thought you were watching her!"

Bakura stared at him. "I was obviously busy, dumbass!" He staggered to his feet. "You take the bathroom, I'll take the bedroom." He said darkly. "We don't want her finding any of the cleaning supplies...or the toy box, for that matter."

"Oh god," Marik said, scrambling to the bathroom. "Kesi?! KESI?!" He threw open the door and found nothing, socks slipping as he turned back to the bedroom. "Is she here?!"

Bakura shook his head, kneeling by the bed. "Come here you little stinker..."

There was a crash from the kitchen, sending both men running. Marik pushed him out of the way, skidding into the kitchen. Kesi giggled back at him, the cupboards opened and all of Ryou's pots and pans scattered on the floor.

"You are such a little shit," Marik groaned, picking her up. "It's back in baby jail for you, missy."

Kesi blew him a raspberry as Bakura shook his head behind them, massaging his temples.

A few hours, the last of the formula, and another bout of crying from at least one party in the room, the crib was finally assembled. Kesi had her head resting on her teddy bear, trying desperately to keep herself awake, and failing.

Marik smiled, laughing as she leaned ever closer to falling over. "Time to test this out, I think," He placed her in the crib and wheeled it back into the spare room, where they had managed to make somewhat of a space for her. Bakura followed him, pensively chewing at a nail. He leaned in, his lip brushing Marik's ear.

"Get her down for her nap, then meet me in the bedroom." He murmured.

Marik turned, flashing a hungry smile and nodding. He gazed down at Kesi as the spirit slipped from the room, trying to control the surge of longing that had lept to his chest.

"I hope you're a sound sleeper, kid," he murmured, rubbing her shoulder gently. Her eyes had slipped closed, her breathing slowly settling into the usual patterns of sleep. He backed quietly out of the room and shutting the door before running back to the bedroom, pouncing onto the freshly rearranged bed and Bakura.

"Fuck me," he hissed, fingers tearing at Bakura's shirt. "While we have the time."

Bakura was ready, pulling him into a fierce kiss as he popped the button on his khakis, sending it spinning across the room.

"Watch the fabric," Marik snapped, nails digging into his shoulders momentarily as he ground his hips sensually against the growing bulge under him. "And watch you don't wake her up,"

He moaned as a hand slid under his waistband, caressing him. Bakura flashed him a grin. "That'll be a bigger problem for you than for me," he murmured in his ear, tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. He put a finger to his lips, smile widening as Marik took it in, sucking eagerly as the rest of his clothes fell to the sheets.

"I'm going to make you wish you could scream," he hissed, grabbing the bottle of lube from under a pillow and slathering a handful on his length. "I'm going to drive you mad."

"I'm already there," Marik retorted, his voice slightly muffled. His eyes smiled devilishly back at Bakura as they wriggled into position, aware of every squeak of the mattress and every brush of skin against skin. With little warning Bakura pushed in, slamming him back against the headboard and hitting exactly the spot that usually made Marik squirm and scream the most.

Marik bit back a howl of both pain and pleasure, barely keeping it contained as Bakura thrust furiously, hitting the spot repeatedly.

"I'll get you off in no time," Bakura growled, panting. "You can't last like this."

Marik stared back at him, eyes daring him to hit harder. Eyes that said _Watch me, bastard. _They never wavered under Bakura's erratic pounding, even as he began to stroke him urgently.

"Come _on,_" The frustration in Bakura's voice was growing, torn between his own mounting pleasure and wanting to outlast his partner.

Marik chuckled, wrapping himself around Bakura's frame. He pushed back against the thrusts, rolling him over and riding him passionately.

"Bastard," Bakura growled. "If that's the way you want it-" He pushed him over, hovering towards the edge as ecstasy flooded through the pit of his stomach. He flashed a triumphant smile...just as they toppled over the edge of the bed, falling to the floor with a loud thump.

Marik swore under his breath, both of them statue-still and straining to listen down the hall.

"No screams," Bakura whispered, untangling himself from the sticky jumble of limbs. "Maybe she's still asleep."

"That'd be a miracle." Marik shoved him away, wiping his hand on his pants as he pulled them back on. "You made me miss it, fuckface."

Bakura rolled his eyes, pulling him back up onto the bed. "Poor baby," he drawled, "You want me to wipe your ass too?"

He sat down beside him, frowning at the distance in Bakura's eyes. "Was it not good for you or something?"

"It was fine," Bakura grunted, throwing his shirt over his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Bakura-" Marik wrapped his arms around him but Bakura pushed him away. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

Bakura glowered at the window. "_Nothing-_"

"Bullshit!" Marik interrupted, crumpling own shirt into a ball. "You can't tell me?!"

"I don't want to go there! Do you know how miserable you get when you're upset?! Why would I cause that?!"

Marik balked. "You're no better, when you get all moody...Did you ever think that maybe I could help?!"

"You don't want to hear it! And you can't help-you can't stop it anymore than I can!" Bakura stood, staring bitterly through the crack in the blinds. "The Pharaoh has all the pieces now...he could be leaving any day now, and that could be it. All of this could be over like that."

The room went very quiet, neither man moving. Marik's eyes fell to the floor, not daring to look at him. "You don't know that for sure." He said finally, clearing his throat. "Things could come up and keep him from going..." The worlds sounded hollow even as he said them. "So you can stay..."

Bakura's shoulders sank. "You know that can't last forever." He sank down next to Marik. "We don't have the time to have shitty sex. We don't have time for fighting, or bitching over the baby, or frantic searches through the house when she wanders off." His hand fell on Marik's, fingers curling around his. "I don't want to waste the time we have...It might be the only time I have left."

"Don't say that," Marik snapped. "You gave me your word you'd come back. Was that a lie?"

Bakura shook his head. "I will do what I can...and this is only if I don't win."

"Then you have to," Marik said, eyes burning as he finally met Bakura's gaze. "Win."

He nodded, sitting for a moment before wrapping his arms around Marik's shoulders. They fell backwards onto the bed, Marik burying his head into the crook of his neck and closing his eyes. Bakura stroked his hair soothingly, cursing that he'd ever have to let go.


	9. First Words

"Just say it," Marik urged. "Say 'Daddy'"

"Ababah" Kesi babbled, banging her fists on the tray of the high chair.

"Daddy."

"Adadabuh"

"No, Daddy,"

"Bababa"

Bakura pushed him out of the way. "How about Papa."

"Appa"

"No,_ P_apa."

"Abuhbah!"

"No, _Papa._"

Kesi screwed up her face. "APPA!" ABBABABA!"

"Forget it." Bakura stood, wheeling away towards the refrigerator. "Just feed her and have done with it."

"But she's so close," Marik said. "Come on Kes, say Daddy. Or Dada, that's at least close."

"Nuhnuhnuh."

"Colder, Kesi. Da-Da."

"Nuhuh."

"Da-da."

"Give it up, Marik." Bakura came back with two jars of baby food, setting them down on the tray. "So what do you say, Kes. Pears or Peaches?"

She frowned down at the jars, her eyes darting between the two. She hovered for a second, then looked up at her dads. "No!" She swept them off the tray, beaming. "Nonononono."

Bakura cackled at Marik's face, leaning over to grab the plastic jars. "Why am I not surprised."

"No!"

Marik rolled his eyes. "Fine, Kes. But still, you need to eat something."

"No! No no no!"

"Okay, we get it!"

"No!"

Marik sighed. "Oh, this is going to be-"

"No!"

"-Fun."


	10. Steps

_ He stood in front of the mirror, worriedly straightening his new robe. It was oddly stiff and itchy, though maybe that came from being used to a different fabric...he almost wished for his old robes now, at least they had been worn soft from use. His family's best jewelry, the gold passed down from the time of the pharaohs, adorned his neck and wrists, the bracelets slipping as he reached for the hair brush on the table. _

_There was a knock on the door frame. He forced his hands to stop shaking._

_"Come in." _

_Ishizu rounded the corner, also dressed in her finest. She flashed him a tiny smile in the mirror, holding back towards the door. _

_"It's almost time," she said quietly. "Are you nervous?"_

_"No." He lied. He hated lying to her, even as he did so constantly. "Should I be?" _

_She shrugged. "It is a big day-" _

_"There are a lot of big days to come," he replied steadily, concentrating on his eyeliner. "None of them scare me." _

_Another blatant lie; he wondered if she knew. _

_She joined him at the mirror, fixing her own hair. "It's okay to be, you know," she murmured. "Natural even." _

_He kept his face neutral, a mask of calm. His hand was steady as he made the swift little swishes at the corner of his eye. Nothing after the initiation would ever scare him again, he had promised himself. He would never give anyone that satisfaction of seeing his fear. _

_"Why should I be?" he demanded, setting the dish of kohl down on the table. "She's only a woman, nothing more." _

_He hurried out without a second glance, hands clenched in fists as he strode through the labyrinth of torch-lit hallways. A part of him was screaming, somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the argument he'd been having with himself for months. _

Can't let you do this...she'll only tie you to this place for good.

_Only as long as father's alive...Better to save my strength for leaving than to put up a fight over such a small thing. _

Not small. You think you'll be able to leave her behind? So easily? _The voice took on a snide tone._

What if she has your kid? What'll stop the cycle then? If your father is still alive by then, he'll make you do it, you know. Your son  
will suffer just as you have. All because you didn't listen to me-

_"SHUT UP!" His voice echoed through the halls as he spun around guiltily. It was too much to hope for that no one had heard him. He continued the long trek to to the ceremonial halls, hands shaking once again. _

_He'd never let it get that far. He'd make sure of it. Even if it meant never having kids..._

Kids are rotten, anyways, _he thought to himself. _All they do is scream and poop, who needs it.

_He rounded the corner and caught sight of the wedding procession, his father standing stonily to the side as everyone maneuvered into position. His face brightened as Marik appeared, opening his arms wide and embracing him. _

_"My son," he said, beaming. "Today, you become a married man." _

_Marik accepted the hug stiffly, forcing a smile. "So I do, father." He pulled away, taking his place at the head of the procession, where Rishid waited with the rings. He patted Marik's shoulder with his usual silent reassurance, The procession fell in line behind him, the flutes and tambourines sounding a quick warm-up as, from across the hall, the bride's procession reared into view. Marik steeled himself and walked forward, his steps even as he approached her. _

_She was taller than he was, her eyes and hair dark under her thick veil. She swept gracefully towards him, curtsying as she drew level with him. He gave a curt nod back, holding out an arm as they had practiced. _

_The music started as together they stepped forward in synch,moving slowly in time to the beat. _

_"Just keep breathing, and it'll be okay," he heard her mutter, though whether it was meant for his ears, he couldn't tell. "We'll get through this somehow." _

_He hoped she was just reassuring herself. He didn't need her advice. _

_They walked on._

"Marik, you're missing it!" He blinked, turning to look at Bakura before his eyes slid to Kesi. The girl was staring at one of Marik's bangles, which was drying on the edge of the table after a recent polishing. Very slowly she straightened up, wobbling on her feet, her arms outstretched to steady herself.

"Oh my god," he murmured, smiling. She's going to do it."

Bakura just watched her closely. "We'll see."

She wobbled for another few seconds, her eyes focused on the bracelet. She shuffled one foot forwards, and another, and another-

-and plopped back down on the floor, giggling to herself.

Marik sighed. "Well, that was exciting," he muttered, pushing the bracelet farther back on the table.

Bakura rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "Baby steps," he mused, glancing over at Marik. "There's the reason they're called that, you know."

Marik scowled. "There's a reason they call you an asshole, too." He retorted.

"Am I going to find out that reason any time soon?" Bakura grinned as Marik grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close.

"Maybe later tonight you will." Marik leaned up, lips just brushing Bakura's before he wheeled away, smirking at the frustration across Bakura's face.

"I hate you-"

"I know," Marik laughed. He stopped at the oven, staring at the milk warming on the stove. "Hey Bakura?"

"Hm?"

"Where's the baby?"

Bakura opened his eyes, looking around. Both men cringed as, from down the hall, they heard the soft shuffle of tiny feet, receding into the living room.


End file.
